My apartment mate has called in sick and is staying home today. Which means that I cannot happily smoke up a storm in the television room while cruising the internet, enjoying my first pipe within ten minutes of pouring coffee, lazily puffing resinous whisps into the crisp air. It is crisp because the heating is on the fritz. Traditionally I keep the windows open and her room door shut while doing this. Too crisp, perhaps.
This is, as you would imagine, a sabot in the oiled machinery of my day off.
But on the other hand, sometimes a woman just needs to stay home, dozing in a warm bed with her Teddy Bear. Rather than heading down into the maelstrom of the city to spend many hours in a badly ventilated institutional building surrounded by glib shop-a-holic Filipinas and fellow Aspy Chinese.
None of whom I have met, but after several years can imagine.
She's in her room with her Teddy Bear and the roomies.
It is quiet in the apartment.
Glib shop-a-holic Filipinas can seriously frazzle nerves. I have worked with them in the past. They are alive, they are vibrant, they are vivacious (alternating with bitchy), they are always in taga-shopping mode, and they are superficial, with a tendency towards snootery and brashness.
And, like Imelda, they are predators.
Unfortunately, a sick day, in most people's minds, hardly ever includes a pipe smoking Dutchman in another room. Oh, his presence is okay, even though he is not a particularly social sort and likely to say something goofy at some point, or argue with one of the stuffed animals, but the pipe is a problem.
And, even if there is no respiratory ailment -- it is that time of year when coughs and aches are common -- the fragrance of fermented dead leaves slowly combusting in a briar may not be everyone's cup of tea. Not quite as comforting an odour to everyone else as it is to the Dutchman.
So the Dutchman will not light up indoors today.
The Dutchman wishes to be considerate.
What this city really needs is a holding tank for Dutchmen. Someplace warm and quiet, with reading material, where a cup of tea may be had, and there are pastries. Where a discreet pipe-full of aged Virginia leaf with a touch of Perique and Fire-cured will not disturb whoever else is there.
If we're out on the street, we are a fine example to the easily impressionable children, who will be awed by how impossibly cool and with-it we look, with our calmness, debonair attitude, elegant smoking equipment, and lumpy clothing holding in pockets of stale air.
"How hip", they will say, "when I grow up I wanna be just like that".
It's for the public good that you chase us back inside.
I'm thinking of the children.
"How hip! I wanna be just like that."
I am looking forward to the first pipe of the day. Sometime around late afternoon or early evening, probably near the intersection of Clay and Stockton or Clay and Waverly.
In the rain.
TOBACCO INDEX
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Warning: May contain traces of soy, wheat, lecithin and tree nuts. That you are here
strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton.
And that you might like cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
BUT, BUT, BUT, IT'S OBLIGATORY!
Over the years the internet, news media, and advertising have suggested a whole bunch of peculiar ways to celebrate holidays. As an example, you should really buy a new Toyota or Ford for either Martin Luther King Day or Presidents' Day. No better way of honouring great achievements! And, per something I wish I had not seen, Valentine's Day means a chair, slutwear, and nasties that would shock your relatives and your pastor. Which it does in the Bible Belt, and if you live there you should tell them all about it.
Make them jealous, and never have to speak to them again.
Which may be the win-win to end all win-wins.
Always excepting bruises and therapy.
Yes, I do think that many Americans are crazy.
Years ago the head of my department proposed to his wife-to-be on Saint Valentine's Day at a fancy restaurant. The best part of that was that it would be impossible to forget the date.
Actually, that's probably the only good part.
A good way to ruin Valentine's Day for the rest of her life if she refused.
Also hard to top that and do something better, and it commits you to always do something extra-super-romantic that's better than the previous year.
So probably not a good idea.
I still think the new vehicle for Martin Luther King Day is berserk. Which Marketing genius had that inspiration? Nothing commemorates the civil rights struggle better than a car?
In that vein, I would suggest that Valentine's means a box of good cigars. That way you can ensure that he's out of the house for sheer hours, and might never know about your addiction to delivery pizza.
Or she. Cigars are not gender-specific.
Neither is pizza.
Plus that aroma adhering to his clothes is infinitely sexy!
Dang, girl, he's a veritable Stanley Kowalski!
Rip those jeans off of him!
I experience romance vicariously.
And purely by imagination.
I am an expert.
Most of the people I know do not observe Valentine's either.
Other than the pizza, we are all heathens.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Make them jealous, and never have to speak to them again.
Which may be the win-win to end all win-wins.
Always excepting bruises and therapy.
Yes, I do think that many Americans are crazy.
Years ago the head of my department proposed to his wife-to-be on Saint Valentine's Day at a fancy restaurant. The best part of that was that it would be impossible to forget the date.
Actually, that's probably the only good part.
A good way to ruin Valentine's Day for the rest of her life if she refused.
Also hard to top that and do something better, and it commits you to always do something extra-super-romantic that's better than the previous year.
So probably not a good idea.
I still think the new vehicle for Martin Luther King Day is berserk. Which Marketing genius had that inspiration? Nothing commemorates the civil rights struggle better than a car?
In that vein, I would suggest that Valentine's means a box of good cigars. That way you can ensure that he's out of the house for sheer hours, and might never know about your addiction to delivery pizza.
Or she. Cigars are not gender-specific.
Neither is pizza.
Plus that aroma adhering to his clothes is infinitely sexy!
Dang, girl, he's a veritable Stanley Kowalski!
Rip those jeans off of him!
I experience romance vicariously.
And purely by imagination.
I am an expert.
Most of the people I know do not observe Valentine's either.
Other than the pizza, we are all heathens.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, February 10, 2019
A FEAST OF SPARKS
Someone recently asked me a question which made me realize that I like warm beverages more than most women. Or, for that matter, than I like most people of any gender. Reason being that I am not a particularly social person; a huge happy party and their chattering loudness soon tires me out.
But I can successfully pretend to be "social".
I am, apparently, a likable sort.
At work I am reasonably affable to several people. What they all have in common is that they read, they are middle-aged and intelligent, and they're male. Two or three people are female, and I get along well with them -- one of them is a joy to work with -- but if they did not have a sense of humour, their presence would pall.
One friend who used to drop by often has been largely invisible since early summer of last year. Reason being that he has a new girlfriend. Whom I have never met. That isn't a problem, and I'm very happy for both of them. Unfortunately, I believe that he has acquired several more briars since then, given his obsession, and I have neither seen those items, nor discussed them with him. So I'm curious. His wood knowledge is quite intense.
We've also discussed cheese in the past.
And a few other subjects.
He's "dating". I have avoided that entirely in the last eight years.
I have no idea what he and his girlfriend do on a date.
My idea of an ideal date would probably be to down to Chinatown for a cup of hot Hong Kong milk tea and a flaky egg tart at Wing Hing occasionally, or pork chops and rice at Lei Ching or San Pan Mei. Much like I do already.
A woman with the same sensitivities would appreciate that.
Very many women are just far too fascinating, active, and vibrant for that. They like dogs, long walks on the beach by moonlight, or rafting down the Amazon. Some of them intimately know their chakras and their aura, and avoid both gluten and animal protein.
Or Jesus is their friend.
Yes. No.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
But I can successfully pretend to be "social".
I am, apparently, a likable sort.
At work I am reasonably affable to several people. What they all have in common is that they read, they are middle-aged and intelligent, and they're male. Two or three people are female, and I get along well with them -- one of them is a joy to work with -- but if they did not have a sense of humour, their presence would pall.
One friend who used to drop by often has been largely invisible since early summer of last year. Reason being that he has a new girlfriend. Whom I have never met. That isn't a problem, and I'm very happy for both of them. Unfortunately, I believe that he has acquired several more briars since then, given his obsession, and I have neither seen those items, nor discussed them with him. So I'm curious. His wood knowledge is quite intense.
We've also discussed cheese in the past.
And a few other subjects.
He's "dating". I have avoided that entirely in the last eight years.
I have no idea what he and his girlfriend do on a date.
My idea of an ideal date would probably be to down to Chinatown for a cup of hot Hong Kong milk tea and a flaky egg tart at Wing Hing occasionally, or pork chops and rice at Lei Ching or San Pan Mei. Much like I do already.
A woman with the same sensitivities would appreciate that.
Very many women are just far too fascinating, active, and vibrant for that. They like dogs, long walks on the beach by moonlight, or rafting down the Amazon. Some of them intimately know their chakras and their aura, and avoid both gluten and animal protein.
Or Jesus is their friend.
Yes. No.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
VIOLENCE AND MAYHEM
No, you did not see me lick my eyeball. And you need to put on another sweater, it's colder than it was an hour ago.
We're not too sure that this Teddy Bear is entirely trustworthy.
And the cat is clearly biased.
I didn't hear anything and that proves her innocence, if she had been plotting to dispose of body parts, we would've all heard.
There was probably justification.
All of the above was, more or less, the culmination of my apartment mate's running commentary about what was on the telly when I returned home last night. Which started with remarks about the fake boobs of the fake blondes. She switched channels a few times, and at one point Lieutenant Colombo and his cigar were on screen. Somebody had been "disappeared".
I have promised that my evil horde of hench-lizards will deal with the judge, prosecutor, and court bailiff in this matter.
"Why yes, there is some very strange jewelry out there.
Now, should I buy this strange jewelry?"
Mozambique is not in Europe. Greece is, but they do terrible things to sheep.
She often has the television on when browsing the internet.
The woman. The various small creatures.
The free-association.
Voices.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
We're not too sure that this Teddy Bear is entirely trustworthy.
And the cat is clearly biased.
I didn't hear anything and that proves her innocence, if she had been plotting to dispose of body parts, we would've all heard.
There was probably justification.
All of the above was, more or less, the culmination of my apartment mate's running commentary about what was on the telly when I returned home last night. Which started with remarks about the fake boobs of the fake blondes. She switched channels a few times, and at one point Lieutenant Colombo and his cigar were on screen. Somebody had been "disappeared".
I have promised that my evil horde of hench-lizards will deal with the judge, prosecutor, and court bailiff in this matter.
"Why yes, there is some very strange jewelry out there.
Now, should I buy this strange jewelry?"
Mozambique is not in Europe. Greece is, but they do terrible things to sheep.
She often has the television on when browsing the internet.
The woman. The various small creatures.
The free-association.
Voices.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, February 09, 2019
BLIMEY IT'S COLD
The two most amusing things to which I was exposed this past week were five very tall German tourists spending ten minutes not buying a damned thing at a Chinese bakery loaded with yummy expertly-made pastries and snackipoos, and someone speculating that if Seattle were facing a natural disaster, there would long lines of people in gluten-free bread lines.
As well as the looting of compost.
That should tell you approximately where I live.
A) Somewhere that isn't Seattle.
B) A place worth visiting.
There's only one city on the coast that combines both of those features.
呢度唔係羅省
A fellow Dutch American suggested recently that if I did not like the weather and objected to drug-addicts shooting up in public, or trash overflowing on the streets, I had best move to Los Angeles. He liked it there.
An idea which is patently absurd.
My dad grew up in the Los Angeles area, my mom lived a few years in Santa Barbara as a child, and my grandmother was still living in Beverly Hills till decades after the war. Kin on both sides have been in that part of the world.
I myself spent some time in the Alhambra - Monterrey Park area.
What I remember clearest is food-poisoning.
And not seeing the mountains.
Because of smog.
I can put up with the weather here at present, because it will improve over the next few months. As for the addicts and their needles, eventually they'll chase the yuppies and e-commerce techies out, as well as other recent arrivals from the Rest Of the Country.
Large tourist bodies cluttering the space in front of the counter at a Chinese bakery are no problem. Especially when I've already got my hot milk tea and flaky egg-tart (or any one of several other delicious things they make), and can observe them from a distance as they gradually realize that they don't know what any of that stuff is.
As a pipe smoker, if I have to go outside, I prefer this place.
Plus these pedestrians and the street-scape they provide.
There is scant street theatre down in Los Angeles.
And more consumerist assholery.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
As well as the looting of compost.
That should tell you approximately where I live.
A) Somewhere that isn't Seattle.
B) A place worth visiting.
There's only one city on the coast that combines both of those features.
呢度唔係羅省
A fellow Dutch American suggested recently that if I did not like the weather and objected to drug-addicts shooting up in public, or trash overflowing on the streets, I had best move to Los Angeles. He liked it there.
An idea which is patently absurd.
My dad grew up in the Los Angeles area, my mom lived a few years in Santa Barbara as a child, and my grandmother was still living in Beverly Hills till decades after the war. Kin on both sides have been in that part of the world.
I myself spent some time in the Alhambra - Monterrey Park area.
What I remember clearest is food-poisoning.
And not seeing the mountains.
Because of smog.
I can put up with the weather here at present, because it will improve over the next few months. As for the addicts and their needles, eventually they'll chase the yuppies and e-commerce techies out, as well as other recent arrivals from the Rest Of the Country.
Large tourist bodies cluttering the space in front of the counter at a Chinese bakery are no problem. Especially when I've already got my hot milk tea and flaky egg-tart (or any one of several other delicious things they make), and can observe them from a distance as they gradually realize that they don't know what any of that stuff is.
As a pipe smoker, if I have to go outside, I prefer this place.
Plus these pedestrians and the street-scape they provide.
There is scant street theatre down in Los Angeles.
And more consumerist assholery.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Friday, February 08, 2019
NEW YEAR'S PORK AND EGG STEW
Some things transcend the time and place. One of those things is Red Stewed Pork. Which is appropriate at any time of year, provided the eater isn't limited by ideological dietary constrictions or doctor's orders. With the inclusion of hard-boiled eggs for textural effect and to absorb some of the flavours, it is quite suitable for the lunar new year period.
My cardiologists haven't told me what not to eat yet, they're probably still waiting with baited breath to see if this stubborn white dude gonna explode, so sometime in the next week or so I'll make this dish.
With some cooked saang choi on the side.
滷蛋紅燒豬肉
LOU DAAN HONG SIU CHYU YUK
Two pounds streaky pork belly (五花肉).
Two or three slices of ginger.
Two or three hard-boiled eggs.
Two or three whole star anise.
Two or three stalks green onion.
Quarter cup or more soy sauce.
Quarter cup or more sherry or rice wine.
Five or six soaked black mushrooms.
Two TBS sugar.
Peel the eggs but leave them whole.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Dump the pork into the pot, boil for about ten minutes, take it out and let it cool. When it's cold, cut it into chunks.
Heat some oil on the bottom of a stew pot or kastrol, add the ginger, stirfry briefly and add the green onion, which you have cut into one or two inch lengths and whacked slightly with the blunt edge of your cleaver. Remove all solids before they brown with a slotted spatula, add the pork, and gild it. When it has good browned edges, spoon off some of the grease that the heat had released, add the sherry or rice wine to sizzle, stir loose the crusty bits, then put everything else in the pot with water to generously cover.
Simmer on low heat for well over an hour.
This is a soppy version, with plenty of juices.
Good on top of rice or noodles.
The number of hard-boiled eggs can be increased if there are more people.
Increase soy sauce and sherry or rice wine plus water appropriately.
Equal parts soy and wine, one to two parts water.
Plus slight modifications else.
If you don't know what else to cook, cook this.
When you're lazy about writing, talk food.
Everything goes better with sambal.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
My cardiologists haven't told me what not to eat yet, they're probably still waiting with baited breath to see if this stubborn white dude gonna explode, so sometime in the next week or so I'll make this dish.
With some cooked saang choi on the side.
滷蛋紅燒豬肉
LOU DAAN HONG SIU CHYU YUK
Two pounds streaky pork belly (五花肉).
Two or three slices of ginger.
Two or three hard-boiled eggs.
Two or three whole star anise.
Two or three stalks green onion.
Quarter cup or more soy sauce.
Quarter cup or more sherry or rice wine.
Five or six soaked black mushrooms.
Two TBS sugar.
Peel the eggs but leave them whole.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Dump the pork into the pot, boil for about ten minutes, take it out and let it cool. When it's cold, cut it into chunks.
Heat some oil on the bottom of a stew pot or kastrol, add the ginger, stirfry briefly and add the green onion, which you have cut into one or two inch lengths and whacked slightly with the blunt edge of your cleaver. Remove all solids before they brown with a slotted spatula, add the pork, and gild it. When it has good browned edges, spoon off some of the grease that the heat had released, add the sherry or rice wine to sizzle, stir loose the crusty bits, then put everything else in the pot with water to generously cover.
Simmer on low heat for well over an hour.
This is a soppy version, with plenty of juices.
Good on top of rice or noodles.
The number of hard-boiled eggs can be increased if there are more people.
Increase soy sauce and sherry or rice wine plus water appropriately.
Equal parts soy and wine, one to two parts water.
Plus slight modifications else.
If you don't know what else to cook, cook this.
When you're lazy about writing, talk food.
Everything goes better with sambal.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
BARGES COLLIDING AT THE SOCK HOP
According to an outfit advertising their services on what is probably the worst damned news site ever (SF Gate), us unattached fifty-plussers are "silver singles". No, I didn't click their hole. I don't need to know more.
Whatever happened to the time-hallowed term "randy old goat"?
Silver Singles, forsooth!
Creaky teenagers.
It was the culmination of several slowly frustrating minutes waiting for the sponsored content on their site to sort itself out. This randy old goat was more interested in the concrete falling from the upper deck on the Richmond San Rafael Bridge and the closing of the AMC Van Ness 14 cinemas than any number of statuesque and thoughtful-looking women wearing hip and stylish yet dignified clothing from a mail-order company back east that specializes in mature fashions for the trim and healthy older white woman of a certain income level.
Just give me the damned news and stop trying to cater or kiss-up to whatever you perceive my demographic to be, dammit.
What demographic speaks both Dutch and Cantonese, smokes a pipe, trims his facial hair regularly, and collects language dictionaries? Is there a collective of that subset, which, by the way, includes all colours and genders and ranges in age from fifteen old years to one hundred? And what, pray tell, would you market to us?
We aren't into Tibetan beads, Mayan clothing, or all-hemp lifestyles.
I have better relationships with my stuffed animals given berserk voice by my Aspy apartment mate than I do with professional and cultured people of the opposite gender wearing tastefully restrained knits style-accented by meaningful jewelry or scarves.
Trust me on this. Snidely the Head Sheep finally realizes that his dastardly plan to kidnap Clarissa the imaginary girl hamster, who visits Ms. Bruin and Caterina the lumpy purple feline every day while us adults are at work, is frowned upon by the other small apartment mates. And that he should by no means trim her lovely whiskers (which he says are too long and unseemly).
They're her whiskers! And her equally imaginary mom will get him with her flick knife if he comes close.
Grandpa Hamster occasionally whacks at him with his walking stick.
These are matters I thoroughly appreciate.
Birkenstocks, Native Jewelry, and Tattoos give me gas.
So do chakras, auras, and past lives.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Whatever happened to the time-hallowed term "randy old goat"?
Silver Singles, forsooth!
Creaky teenagers.
It was the culmination of several slowly frustrating minutes waiting for the sponsored content on their site to sort itself out. This randy old goat was more interested in the concrete falling from the upper deck on the Richmond San Rafael Bridge and the closing of the AMC Van Ness 14 cinemas than any number of statuesque and thoughtful-looking women wearing hip and stylish yet dignified clothing from a mail-order company back east that specializes in mature fashions for the trim and healthy older white woman of a certain income level.
Just give me the damned news and stop trying to cater or kiss-up to whatever you perceive my demographic to be, dammit.
What demographic speaks both Dutch and Cantonese, smokes a pipe, trims his facial hair regularly, and collects language dictionaries? Is there a collective of that subset, which, by the way, includes all colours and genders and ranges in age from fifteen old years to one hundred? And what, pray tell, would you market to us?
We aren't into Tibetan beads, Mayan clothing, or all-hemp lifestyles.
I have better relationships with my stuffed animals given berserk voice by my Aspy apartment mate than I do with professional and cultured people of the opposite gender wearing tastefully restrained knits style-accented by meaningful jewelry or scarves.
Trust me on this. Snidely the Head Sheep finally realizes that his dastardly plan to kidnap Clarissa the imaginary girl hamster, who visits Ms. Bruin and Caterina the lumpy purple feline every day while us adults are at work, is frowned upon by the other small apartment mates. And that he should by no means trim her lovely whiskers (which he says are too long and unseemly).
They're her whiskers! And her equally imaginary mom will get him with her flick knife if he comes close.
Grandpa Hamster occasionally whacks at him with his walking stick.
These are matters I thoroughly appreciate.
Birkenstocks, Native Jewelry, and Tattoos give me gas.
So do chakras, auras, and past lives.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Thursday, February 07, 2019
STENT MAN: THE QUEST
The hospital where I had my coronary procedure done (a stent) has kindly sent me a lovely publication from the manufacturer of said item (the stent). Now, I already know what it does, more or less (keeps me from keeling over from a heart-attack by the side of a Freeway), but judging from the booklet, it may also do so much more. The problem is that I need to get stronger reading glasses before I will know.
The print is too small for normal folks.
Somewhere in this apartment I actually have a suitable pair of specs, purchased aeons ago for just such an eventuality as this.
Expecting me to remember where those glasses are in this packrat's paradise would be ridiculous. Did I say aeons ago? Years.
So, until sometime in the next day or two, I'll just have to use my imagination.
SUPER POWERS!
This coronary stent will give me x-ray vision. Or it boosts my ability to fly. Walk through walls. I can stop a freight train. Read minds, romance the stone, comfort the grieving, punish the wicked, and change the entire course of human history.
Why, there are any number of things!
All I have to do is open up my aura, unlock my magic new potential, and align spiritual chakras that heretofore I did not even know I had.
Stent: an implant that keeps an artery open.
But all that small print is essential.
Because arteries have tiny eyes.
Super heroes need assistants to go with the ridiculous clothing choices, as well as "style" some berserk queen-of-the-danged garb of their own.
The search is on.
Hark! Did Gotham just send out a signal?
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
The print is too small for normal folks.
Somewhere in this apartment I actually have a suitable pair of specs, purchased aeons ago for just such an eventuality as this.
Expecting me to remember where those glasses are in this packrat's paradise would be ridiculous. Did I say aeons ago? Years.
So, until sometime in the next day or two, I'll just have to use my imagination.
SUPER POWERS!
This coronary stent will give me x-ray vision. Or it boosts my ability to fly. Walk through walls. I can stop a freight train. Read minds, romance the stone, comfort the grieving, punish the wicked, and change the entire course of human history.
Why, there are any number of things!
All I have to do is open up my aura, unlock my magic new potential, and align spiritual chakras that heretofore I did not even know I had.
Stent: an implant that keeps an artery open.
But all that small print is essential.
Because arteries have tiny eyes.
Super heroes need assistants to go with the ridiculous clothing choices, as well as "style" some berserk queen-of-the-danged garb of their own.
The search is on.
Hark! Did Gotham just send out a signal?
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
HYECK FAAN AND OTHER PHRASES
So what happens when on the 2ᶮᵈ day of the lunar year you walk into a bakery filled with elderly Cantonese types who all know you speak their language? A hearty chorus of "san nin faai lok". Happy New Year. Warm and welcoming. As one of the regulars there I joined in when the next familiar face came in, and the next.
新年快樂!
In between new arrivals, I listened in on a conversation that involved lots of old mothers, despicable acts, and unspeakable body parts, all used for emphasis and exclamation. No, shan't reproduce those sounds here, because there really is no reason for you to know them if you don't already. Suffice to say that the speech defect is exactly the same as a Dubliner employing the "F" word. Or how a Dutchman uses "k", "l", or "kl".
I will note, however, that in dialect a familiar obscene imperative verbform characteristically loses the "t" or "d" with which it begins in city speech.
Oh, let's change the subject: San Nin Faai Lok!
San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok.
Plus several other congratulatory phrases. San tai kin hong, maan si yu yi, seui seui ping on, and something that sounds the same as 'fish' (but means a surplus).
May you have fish all the time. But mostly san nin faai lok.
While I was enjoying the first egg tart and third cup of HK milk tea after my recent surgical adventure -- see, I'm well on the road toward recovering my old self -- many flaky pastries were consumed, the noise level hit the roof, caffeinated beverages were swilled, and one Ah Sook was asked why he was leaving so soon. "Meuwhaai h'-hyek faan luh!" Which I believe means that as a matter that you should have taken for granted (too many slurred-together particles) he was going home to have his dinner.
After departing I smoked a pipe while observing dusk falling over Waverly. Fathers and their little daughters, pretty in bright new clothes, headed home. Rosy cheeked tykes alternated with elderly ladies, even the thuggish teenage boys seemed well-behaved and scrubbed. More places in C'town were open than the day before.
Later, I too hyecked some faan. Roast meats, fresh vegs, rice.
And another cup of a stimulating beverage.
Followed by a second pipe.
San nin faai lok.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
新年快樂!
In between new arrivals, I listened in on a conversation that involved lots of old mothers, despicable acts, and unspeakable body parts, all used for emphasis and exclamation. No, shan't reproduce those sounds here, because there really is no reason for you to know them if you don't already. Suffice to say that the speech defect is exactly the same as a Dubliner employing the "F" word. Or how a Dutchman uses "k", "l", or "kl".
I will note, however, that in dialect a familiar obscene imperative verbform characteristically loses the "t" or "d" with which it begins in city speech.
Oh, let's change the subject: San Nin Faai Lok!
San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok. San nin faai lok.
Plus several other congratulatory phrases. San tai kin hong, maan si yu yi, seui seui ping on, and something that sounds the same as 'fish' (but means a surplus).
May you have fish all the time. But mostly san nin faai lok.
While I was enjoying the first egg tart and third cup of HK milk tea after my recent surgical adventure -- see, I'm well on the road toward recovering my old self -- many flaky pastries were consumed, the noise level hit the roof, caffeinated beverages were swilled, and one Ah Sook was asked why he was leaving so soon. "Meuwhaai h'-hyek faan luh!" Which I believe means that as a matter that you should have taken for granted (too many slurred-together particles) he was going home to have his dinner.
After departing I smoked a pipe while observing dusk falling over Waverly. Fathers and their little daughters, pretty in bright new clothes, headed home. Rosy cheeked tykes alternated with elderly ladies, even the thuggish teenage boys seemed well-behaved and scrubbed. More places in C'town were open than the day before.
Later, I too hyecked some faan. Roast meats, fresh vegs, rice.
And another cup of a stimulating beverage.
Followed by a second pipe.
San nin faai lok.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, February 06, 2019
COMPLETELY CHICKEN
In conversation with a chance-met tourist visiting from the interior, the subject of chicken came up. The closest he had come to chicken in San Francisco was 'General Tso's Chicken'. Which did not impress him. And that is perfectly understandable, as that dish was invented in New York by someone trying to make a living selling pan-fry to uneducated East Coasters. Fried nuggets, chilies, sweet sauce, scallions.
It's not Chinese, really, but American kibble.
The most Chinese of chicken preparations is probably 瑞士雞翼 ('seui-si kai yik'; "Swiss Wings"). Which has nothing to do with Switzerland, but was invented in Hong Kong. Goes great with alcohol. Or hot beverages.
We talked at very great length about chickens. He did not know that Werner Herzog loathed chickens. There is a lovely video on youtube of Mr. Herzog detailing precisely why and how, and though not in German, it betrays a grim and very Teutonic specificity.
I am not the kind of person who is particularly fond of chickens either, and would probably not want one as a pet. But for dinner they can be excellent.
Here, then, are some recipes. Serve them while watching a Herzog movie.
The first several are Chinese dishes, as an antidote to General Tso.
豉油雞 SI YAU KAI
Soy Sauce Chicken
One whole chicken, about four pounds.
Two cups soy sauce.
Half a cup sherry or rice wine.
Six TBS cane sugar.
Six slices of ginger.
Three garlic cloves, whole.
Three scallion, sectioned.
Three star anise pods.
One piece of dried tangerine peel (陳皮 'chan pei').
One dried honey date (金絲蜜棗乾 'gam si mat jou gon').
Eight cups water.
Rinse the chicken, and trim flaps.
Gild the ginger, garlic, and scallion with a little oil in the bottom of a large stockpot, adding the ginger first, then the garlic cloves and scallion sections. Seethe with the sherry, then add everything except the chicken and bring to a boil. Simmer a few minutes, then submerge the chicken, rump upwards. Bring back to a boil, turn low, and poach for a scant twenty minutes.
Turn off heat, cover, and let stand for an hour or so.
Remove chicken and drain.
Bring pot back to a boil and reduce liquid by half. Strain and cool.
Chop the chicken into large pieces. Arrange on a platter and spoon some of the liquid over.
薑蔥炆雞丁GEUNG CHUNG MAN KAI DING
Ginger-Scallion Simmered Chicken Chunks
One pound chicken on the bone, whacked into chopstickable pieces.
Three scallions, sectioned.
Sliced ginger.
Four TBS sherry.
Two TBS soy sauce.
One TBS sugar.
Wash and dry chicken, dust with a teaspoon of cornflour, add a dash of oil and toss to coat. Stirfry in scant oil to firm up. Decant temporarily to a plate.
Sauté ginger and scallion till fragrant, add chicken to the pan along with the sherry, soy sauce, sugar, and a splash of water.
Simmer on low for ten to fifteen minutes.
Put in a shallow bowl to serve.
鮑魚粥 BAU YÜ JUK
Chicken and Abalone Rice Porridge
One cup of rice.
One carrot, cut into three or four pieces.
One can of abalone.
Six chicken drumsticks.
Six dried scallops (conpoy).
Eight to ten cups water.
Pinches of ground white pepper.
Plus chopped cilantro, shredded ginger, soy sauce, and sesame oil.
Set the dried scallops to soak in a little water with a pinch of sugar added. After rinsing the rice cook it in half the water, simmer the chicken pieces and carrot in another pot in the remaining water. Once the rice is fully cooked, remove from heat. Same with the chicken. Drain the chicken liquid into the rice and while this cools, pull the chicken flesh from the bones and set aside.
Dump the carrot chunks into the pot with the rice.
Traditionally the rice would be simmered for several hours with frequent stirring (to prevent scorching) till the grains start falling apart. But it saves a lot of time to simply put the rice and cooking liquids into the blender - which is why you should let it all cool down a bit first.
When the rice has been osterized, return it to the soup pot, and bring it back to boil.
Carefully pull the re-moistened scallops apart, and add them and their soaking liquid to the pot.
Mix a little soy sauce and sesame oil with the chicken. Do not add too much, just enough to aromatize.
Slice the abalone, and add some of the abalone liquid into the rice porridge if you wish.
Add the sliced abalone only a minute or two before serving, while the soup pot is still on the burner. Abalone toughens up if cooked too long, so remove the pot from the heat shortly thereafter. Adjust taste with white pepper.
Divvy up into bowls, add chicken meat, shredded ginger, and cilantro.
紅燒雞翅 HONG SIU KAI CHI
Braised Chicken Wings.
A dozen chicken wings.
A dozen black mushrooms.
One cup stock.
Quarter cup soy sauce.
Quarter cup sherry.
Two TBS sugar.
Two scallions, coarse cut.
A little minced ginger.
Trim the tips off the wings, and cut them in two at the joints. Soak the mushrooms for thirty or forty minutes in a little water with a pinch of sugar. Drain, reserve liquid.
Lightly stirfry ginger and scallion, then add the wings, sugar, and half of the soy sauce. Once the wings have darkened, add everything else, and simmer for half an hour.
鹹水雞 HAAM SUI KAI
Saltwater Chicken
One three pound chicken.
Two cups water.
Half a cup of cane sugar.
Quarter cup of salt.
Jigger of rice wine or sherry.
Two star anise pods, two chopped scallion, two or three thick slices ginger (whacked with the back of the cleaver), and one clove garlic (also whacked).
Bring the water and the various flavourings listed to a boil.
Simmer briefly, cool down and refrigerate.
In a second vessel heat enough water to inundate the chicken entirely. When it boils, do precisely that. Remove the chicken, rinse under cold water, and repeat. The third time place the chicken in the boiling water, put a lid on the pot, and turn off the heat. After thirty minutes remove the bird and rinse under cold water. It is now at the exact stage of cooked that Chinese people like, but it would have done no harm if you had simmered it for a few minutes before turning off the heat. Or you could turn on the flame, and once it boils place the chicken in it one more time, turning off heat and letting it stand for ten minutes.
Once the chicken has been removed from the water for the last time wipe it dry, then brush it very thoroughly with sesame oil. Now prick the chicken all over with a needle, and place it in the cold salt-water mixture in the refrigerator for twenty-four hours. To serve, chop it into chopstickable chunks, strew with a little freshly minced scallion, and sprinkle with a little of the soaking liquid.
The boil-water can be used for a broth.
淋雞件 LIM KAI KIN
Drenched Chicken Chunks
One three pound chicken, chopped into chunks.
Half a cup of shelled peanuts.
Quarter cup of rice wine or sherry.
Two TBS expressed ginger juice.
One TBS cornstarch.
Half TBS sugar.
Half TBS soy sauce.
Plus:
Four cups broth.
Four cups rice wine or sherry.
Minced ginger and garlic.
Chopped scallion.
Marinate chicken pieces for an hour in the half cup sherry, ginger juice, corn starch, sugar, and soy sauce. Drain and pat dry. Reserve marinade.
Meanwhile wash and soak the peanuts to remove the red skins and to soften them.
Heat oil in a pan, add ginger, add garlic, then add chicken pieces, followed shortly by the peanuts. Stir over high heat till coloured somewhat and fragrant. Add the sherry and the broth, bring to a boil, turn low and simmer for twenty minutes. Remove the chicken pieces to a dish. Add the reserved marinade to the pan, bring to a boil, and pour over the chicken. Let it stand a few minutes, then garnish with the chopped scallion and serve.
蒸滑雞 JING GWAT KAI
Steamed Chicken
Half pound chicken in one, two, or several pieces.
One and a half Tsp cornstarch.
One Tsp soy sauce.
One Tsp sherry or rice wine.
A little ginger, minced fine.
Pinch of ground white pepper.
Pinch of sugar.
Rub the sugar and cornstarch into the chicken all over. Put it into a shallow basin, drizzle the soy sace and sherry on top, and let it sit for half an hour. Turn occasionally. Add the ginger and put it in the steamer.
Fifteen to twenty minutes.
椰汁香芋南瓜雞 YEH JAP HEUNG WU NAAM GWAA KAI
Chicken, Pumpkin, and Taro with Coconut Milk
材料 Ingredients:
雞: 半隻, 斬/切五,六塊 (half a chicken, cut into five or six chunks).
芋頭: 3両 (four ounces taro, peeled and chunked).
南瓜: 3両 (four ounces pumpkin, peeled and chunked).
冬菇: 5隻, 切片 (five black mushrooms, sliced)。
芹菜: 2條, 切段 (two stalks celery, coarsely cut).
葱頭: 1顆, 切成 (one onion, chopped).
葱: 1粒, 切成 (one scallion, chopped).
椰汁: 8湯匙 (eight TBS coconut milk).
上湯: 少許 (small quantity superior stock).
生粉: 少許 (small quantity cornstarch).
Rinse the chicken, rub it with a little cornstarch and set is aside.
Gild the taro and pumpkin separately in oil, set aside.
Quick fry the onion till fragrance rises, add the celery and stirfry, add the mushroom and chicken pieces and turn to coat and incorporate. Splash liberally with the superior stock, add the taro, then add the coconut milk and the pumpkin. Let it simmer for about five to ten minutes, and strew the chopped scallion over ere serving.
For presentation purposes, the chicken - coconut dish can be served in a heated clay pot (煲仔 'po-chai'). It will taste slightly better, and clay pots (on a suitable protective pad) also add considerably to the gemütlichkeit of a cosy shared meal.
桶子油雞 TONG JAI YAU KAI
Oiled Chicken
老公雞: 1隻 (one old cock, around three pounds).
薑: 2或3片 (two or three thick slices of ginger).
葱: 2或3條 (two or three scallion).
八角: 5或6粒 (five or six whole star anise).
陳皮: 半個 (half a dried tangerine peel).
糖: 5両 (about one cup cane sugar, slightly less).
豉油: 3盃 (three cups soy sauce).
黄酒: 1盃 (one cup sherry or rice wine).
水: 3盃 (three cups water).
Blanch chicken, rinse and drain.
Put a bamboo rack in the bottom of a soup pot (to keep the bird from sticking), add all flavourings and liquids, and bring to a boil. Put the chicken in the pot, simmer roughly half an hour, turning as appropriate and pouring the hot broth into the cavity. Remove the bird from the pot and brush with oil to make it shiny. Let it cool a bit.
Chop into large pieces and arrange on a platter.
Splash some of the cooking liquid over to serve.
And, as an alternative to Chinese chicken, the following:
MANOK KUNIT
Yellow Curry Chicken
Half a chicken, in four pieces.
One onion, minced.
One or two cloves garlic, minced.
A little ginger, ditto.
Three kemiri (candlenuts); lightly toasted, ground smooth.
One TBS. sambal ulek.
One Tsp. tamarind paste.
One Tsp. each: ground coriander, turmeric, dry ginger.
Half Tsp. each: sugar, shrimp paste.
Generous pinch ground cumin.
A stalk of lemon grass.
One cup coconut milk.
Dash of amber fish sauce.
Gild the onion, garlic, and ginger. Add the kemiri, sambal, shrimp paste, and spices, stirfry till fragrant. Then add the chicken, lemon grass, and coconut milk. Cook till the chicken is tender and the oil starts coming out, about forty minutes. Add the sugar and fish sauce, and cook a few minutes more.
BULELITJA
Poached Chicken for an offering
One whole chicken.
Two to three each: bruised stalks of lemongras, whole shallots, whole green chilies, thick slices of ginger.
One Tsp each: salt, sugar.
Half Tsp each: white peppercorns, coriander seeds.
Quarter to half Tsp turmeric.
Generous pinches tamo kuntji, langkwang (galangal).
Two whole cloves, a bay leaf, and a piece of dried orange peel.
Eight cups water.
Four cups coconut milk.
Quarter cup white liquor (either Dutch gin, or Vodka).
A jigger of vinegar.
Bring all save chicken to a boil, simmer for five to ten minutes. Inundate the bird and bring the pot back to boil. Turn off heat. Weigh the bird down - a large ceramic bowl partially filled with water will do so nicely. Do not use a metal object as it will affect taste and appearance. Let the pot sit for an hour. Then remove the chicken to a broad basin.
With a slotted spoon remove all solids from the broth. Bring the broth back to a roiling boil and pour slowly over the chicken, making sure all of it is touched by the hot liquid. Drain chicken, reserve broth to a pot and bring back to boiling, then simmer for ten minutes.
Serve the chicken and broth separately.
Chicken cool, broth hot.
MANOK TJEAP KARE
Curried Chicken Chunks
One-and-a-half pounds large chicken parts
Two chopped shallots.
Garlic and ginger, minced.
One TBS ground coriander.
One Tsp each: ground cumin, turmeric, cayenne, sugar.
Pinches cinnamon powder, dry ginger, ground pepper.
TBS each: chili paste, Louisiana hotsauce, amber fish sauce.
Four or five Kemiri nuts, ground up.
One cup water or stock.
Jigger sherry.
Gild chicken, shallots, garlic, ginger. Add spices, stir till the fragrance rises, seethe with the sherry. Add the chili paste, hotsauce, and fish sauce; stir over low heat till it starts sticking. Now add the water or stock, stir the crusty bits to loosen, and simmer for ten to fifteen minutes more. Finish with some minced scallion and a squeeze of lime juice.
PAPRIKASZ
Paprika Chicken
1 whole chicken (about 3 pounds), cut into 8 pieces.
2 garlic cloves, minced.
2 onions, thinly sliced.
2 - 4 TBS sweet Hungarian paprika.
1/2 cup chicken stock.
4 TBS sour cream (*).
A very generous pinch of ground caraway seed.
Olive oil, or butter, or bacon grease.
Salt and pepper.
Gild the onions and garlic. Rub the chicken bits with oil, plus salt, pepper, and some of the paprika. Add to the pan and brown slightly. Now add the remaining paprika and the ground caraway, stir to mix, and add the chicken stock and enough water to barely cover. Simmer for about half an hour, then stir in the sour cream.
Garnish with plenty of chopped parsley.
ADOBONG MANOK SA GATA
Stewed chicken in Coconut Milk
Eight to ten chicken thighs.
Half a cup of soy sauce.
One third cup of cider vinegar.
One and a half cups of coconut milk.
Bay leaves.
One or two sliced shallots.
One Tsp. whole pepper corns.
Eight garlic cloves, minced.
Prick the thighs here and there with a fork, marinate in soy sauce for half an hour. Drain, reserving soy sauce. Brown in a pan, and discard some of the grease. Add the sliced shallot and colour this slightly, then add everything else and simmer for half an hour or so, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking or burning.
Remove bay leaves.
Serve with steamed rice, and a little saucer of crushed garlic in vinegar on the side.
If you want, you can also add whole siling labuyo (wild chili) or siling haba (long chili) to the pan. Siling labuyo is sharper than siling haba.
MARGI NA FARCHA
Parsi-style Fried Chicken
Eight pieces of chicken.
Two large eggs.
A little ginger and garlic, mashed smooth.
Two or three hot green chilies ditto.
One cup lightly toasted bread crumbs.
One TBS plain white flour.
Half TBS cayenne.
One Tsp. ground coriander.
One Tsp. ground cumin.
Pinch ground clove.
Pinch ground cinnamon.
Dash of Worcestershire sauce.
Dash of vinegar.
Dash of salad oil.
Mix everything except the chicken, eggs, and breadcrumbs.
Slash the chicken pieces deeply, thoroughly coat the chicken with the mixture, then refrigerate for several hours.
Beat the egg whites frothy, mix in the yolks. Dip each piece of chicken in the egg, then in the breadcrumbs. Fry each side till done, then do the other side. Drain on paper towels.
MURGHI MASALA
Creamy Curry Chicken
One pound of chicken, chunk-cut on bone.
Two onions, chopped.
One dozen Roma tomatoes, peeled seeded chopped.
One cup cashews.
Half a cup heavy cream.
Quarter cup yoghurt.
Two TBS garam masala.
Half TBS cayenne.
Thumblength ginger.
Five or six cloves garlic.
Pinches of salt and pepper.
One teaspoon cumin seeds, roasted till quite dark, then ground fine.
Mince and smash the garlic and ginger to a paste, mix it with the yoghurt and the pinches of salt and pepper. Marinate the chicken in this for an hour.
Pour boiling water (enough to cover) over the cashews and let them soften.
Take the chicken pieces out of the marinade, and colour them well in hot oil. Remove to a plate, add the onions to the pan with a little more oil. Saute till coloured, add the tomatoes and all spices except the dark-roasted cumin seeds, and cook soft, which will be about five minutes.
Dump the cashews and their soaking water into a blender, add the contents of the pan, and osterize smooth. Return this to the pan and reduce till velvety, then put in the chicken pieces. Bring back to a boil, turn heat low, and simmer a few minutes. Stir the cream into the dish, and let it heat, but do not bring it to a boil.
Dust the dark-roasted cumin powder over the top before serving.
Decorate with the merest sprinkle of sliced green chili.
D'JAJ M'ZBIB
Poulet a la Juif; Stewed Chicken with Raisins.
One chicken, skinned and cut up into large pieces.
Two large onions.
Half a cup raisins, rinsed.
Half a TBS ground coriander.
Quarter Tsp. each: ground pepper, cinnamon powder, dry ginger.
Generous pinches mace, cayenne, turmeric, salt, and sugar.
Smaller pinches oregano, thyme, rosemary.
Two cups chicken stock.
The juice of one lemon.
Sherry.
Bay leaves.
Olive oil.
Chop the onions, fry golden them in a little olive oil, and remove to a plate.
Fry the chicken pieces till gilded, add the coriander, cayenne, and turmeric. Continue frying while stirring till material starts sticking to the bottom of the pan. Add onions and raisins, stir briefly, and deglaze with a splash sherry. Now add all else, and simmer for half an hour, stirring occasionally.
VERY BRITISH CHICKEN CURRY
Half a dozen chicken thighs.
Two onions, sliced.
Two TBS mango chutney.
Two Tsp. ground coriander.
One Tsp. ground cumin.
One Tsp. turmeric.
One Tsp. cayenne.
One TBS flour.
One TBS lemon juice.
One TBS sugar.
Dash of Worcestershire sauce.
A jigger of sherry.
Bay leaf or two.
Chili pepper or two.
Two to three cups water.
Gently sauté the chicken thighs till nicely coloured in some oil. Add the onions, and let them softly brown. Add the water, bay leaf, and chili (chopped or not) and put on a low simmer. Mix the remaining ingredients and stir into the pot. Cook till the chicken is tender.
P.S.: Everything goes better with sambal.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
It's not Chinese, really, but American kibble.
The most Chinese of chicken preparations is probably 瑞士雞翼 ('seui-si kai yik'; "Swiss Wings"). Which has nothing to do with Switzerland, but was invented in Hong Kong. Goes great with alcohol. Or hot beverages.
We talked at very great length about chickens. He did not know that Werner Herzog loathed chickens. There is a lovely video on youtube of Mr. Herzog detailing precisely why and how, and though not in German, it betrays a grim and very Teutonic specificity.
I am not the kind of person who is particularly fond of chickens either, and would probably not want one as a pet. But for dinner they can be excellent.
Here, then, are some recipes. Serve them while watching a Herzog movie.
The first several are Chinese dishes, as an antidote to General Tso.
豉油雞 SI YAU KAI
Soy Sauce Chicken
One whole chicken, about four pounds.
Two cups soy sauce.
Half a cup sherry or rice wine.
Six TBS cane sugar.
Six slices of ginger.
Three garlic cloves, whole.
Three scallion, sectioned.
Three star anise pods.
One piece of dried tangerine peel (陳皮 'chan pei').
One dried honey date (金絲蜜棗乾 'gam si mat jou gon').
Eight cups water.
Rinse the chicken, and trim flaps.
Gild the ginger, garlic, and scallion with a little oil in the bottom of a large stockpot, adding the ginger first, then the garlic cloves and scallion sections. Seethe with the sherry, then add everything except the chicken and bring to a boil. Simmer a few minutes, then submerge the chicken, rump upwards. Bring back to a boil, turn low, and poach for a scant twenty minutes.
Turn off heat, cover, and let stand for an hour or so.
Remove chicken and drain.
Bring pot back to a boil and reduce liquid by half. Strain and cool.
Chop the chicken into large pieces. Arrange on a platter and spoon some of the liquid over.
薑蔥炆雞丁GEUNG CHUNG MAN KAI DING
Ginger-Scallion Simmered Chicken Chunks
One pound chicken on the bone, whacked into chopstickable pieces.
Three scallions, sectioned.
Sliced ginger.
Four TBS sherry.
Two TBS soy sauce.
One TBS sugar.
Wash and dry chicken, dust with a teaspoon of cornflour, add a dash of oil and toss to coat. Stirfry in scant oil to firm up. Decant temporarily to a plate.
Sauté ginger and scallion till fragrant, add chicken to the pan along with the sherry, soy sauce, sugar, and a splash of water.
Simmer on low for ten to fifteen minutes.
Put in a shallow bowl to serve.
鮑魚粥 BAU YÜ JUK
Chicken and Abalone Rice Porridge
One cup of rice.
One carrot, cut into three or four pieces.
One can of abalone.
Six chicken drumsticks.
Six dried scallops (conpoy).
Eight to ten cups water.
Pinches of ground white pepper.
Plus chopped cilantro, shredded ginger, soy sauce, and sesame oil.
Set the dried scallops to soak in a little water with a pinch of sugar added. After rinsing the rice cook it in half the water, simmer the chicken pieces and carrot in another pot in the remaining water. Once the rice is fully cooked, remove from heat. Same with the chicken. Drain the chicken liquid into the rice and while this cools, pull the chicken flesh from the bones and set aside.
Dump the carrot chunks into the pot with the rice.
Traditionally the rice would be simmered for several hours with frequent stirring (to prevent scorching) till the grains start falling apart. But it saves a lot of time to simply put the rice and cooking liquids into the blender - which is why you should let it all cool down a bit first.
When the rice has been osterized, return it to the soup pot, and bring it back to boil.
Carefully pull the re-moistened scallops apart, and add them and their soaking liquid to the pot.
Mix a little soy sauce and sesame oil with the chicken. Do not add too much, just enough to aromatize.
Slice the abalone, and add some of the abalone liquid into the rice porridge if you wish.
Add the sliced abalone only a minute or two before serving, while the soup pot is still on the burner. Abalone toughens up if cooked too long, so remove the pot from the heat shortly thereafter. Adjust taste with white pepper.
Divvy up into bowls, add chicken meat, shredded ginger, and cilantro.
紅燒雞翅 HONG SIU KAI CHI
Braised Chicken Wings.
A dozen chicken wings.
A dozen black mushrooms.
One cup stock.
Quarter cup soy sauce.
Quarter cup sherry.
Two TBS sugar.
Two scallions, coarse cut.
A little minced ginger.
Trim the tips off the wings, and cut them in two at the joints. Soak the mushrooms for thirty or forty minutes in a little water with a pinch of sugar. Drain, reserve liquid.
Lightly stirfry ginger and scallion, then add the wings, sugar, and half of the soy sauce. Once the wings have darkened, add everything else, and simmer for half an hour.
鹹水雞 HAAM SUI KAI
Saltwater Chicken
One three pound chicken.
Two cups water.
Half a cup of cane sugar.
Quarter cup of salt.
Jigger of rice wine or sherry.
Two star anise pods, two chopped scallion, two or three thick slices ginger (whacked with the back of the cleaver), and one clove garlic (also whacked).
Bring the water and the various flavourings listed to a boil.
Simmer briefly, cool down and refrigerate.
In a second vessel heat enough water to inundate the chicken entirely. When it boils, do precisely that. Remove the chicken, rinse under cold water, and repeat. The third time place the chicken in the boiling water, put a lid on the pot, and turn off the heat. After thirty minutes remove the bird and rinse under cold water. It is now at the exact stage of cooked that Chinese people like, but it would have done no harm if you had simmered it for a few minutes before turning off the heat. Or you could turn on the flame, and once it boils place the chicken in it one more time, turning off heat and letting it stand for ten minutes.
Once the chicken has been removed from the water for the last time wipe it dry, then brush it very thoroughly with sesame oil. Now prick the chicken all over with a needle, and place it in the cold salt-water mixture in the refrigerator for twenty-four hours. To serve, chop it into chopstickable chunks, strew with a little freshly minced scallion, and sprinkle with a little of the soaking liquid.
The boil-water can be used for a broth.
淋雞件 LIM KAI KIN
Drenched Chicken Chunks
One three pound chicken, chopped into chunks.
Half a cup of shelled peanuts.
Quarter cup of rice wine or sherry.
Two TBS expressed ginger juice.
One TBS cornstarch.
Half TBS sugar.
Half TBS soy sauce.
Plus:
Four cups broth.
Four cups rice wine or sherry.
Minced ginger and garlic.
Chopped scallion.
Marinate chicken pieces for an hour in the half cup sherry, ginger juice, corn starch, sugar, and soy sauce. Drain and pat dry. Reserve marinade.
Meanwhile wash and soak the peanuts to remove the red skins and to soften them.
Heat oil in a pan, add ginger, add garlic, then add chicken pieces, followed shortly by the peanuts. Stir over high heat till coloured somewhat and fragrant. Add the sherry and the broth, bring to a boil, turn low and simmer for twenty minutes. Remove the chicken pieces to a dish. Add the reserved marinade to the pan, bring to a boil, and pour over the chicken. Let it stand a few minutes, then garnish with the chopped scallion and serve.
蒸滑雞 JING GWAT KAI
Steamed Chicken
Half pound chicken in one, two, or several pieces.
One and a half Tsp cornstarch.
One Tsp soy sauce.
One Tsp sherry or rice wine.
A little ginger, minced fine.
Pinch of ground white pepper.
Pinch of sugar.
Rub the sugar and cornstarch into the chicken all over. Put it into a shallow basin, drizzle the soy sace and sherry on top, and let it sit for half an hour. Turn occasionally. Add the ginger and put it in the steamer.
Fifteen to twenty minutes.
椰汁香芋南瓜雞 YEH JAP HEUNG WU NAAM GWAA KAI
Chicken, Pumpkin, and Taro with Coconut Milk
材料 Ingredients:
雞: 半隻, 斬/切五,六塊 (half a chicken, cut into five or six chunks).
芋頭: 3両 (four ounces taro, peeled and chunked).
南瓜: 3両 (four ounces pumpkin, peeled and chunked).
冬菇: 5隻, 切片 (five black mushrooms, sliced)。
芹菜: 2條, 切段 (two stalks celery, coarsely cut).
葱頭: 1顆, 切成 (one onion, chopped).
葱: 1粒, 切成 (one scallion, chopped).
椰汁: 8湯匙 (eight TBS coconut milk).
上湯: 少許 (small quantity superior stock).
生粉: 少許 (small quantity cornstarch).
Rinse the chicken, rub it with a little cornstarch and set is aside.
Gild the taro and pumpkin separately in oil, set aside.
Quick fry the onion till fragrance rises, add the celery and stirfry, add the mushroom and chicken pieces and turn to coat and incorporate. Splash liberally with the superior stock, add the taro, then add the coconut milk and the pumpkin. Let it simmer for about five to ten minutes, and strew the chopped scallion over ere serving.
For presentation purposes, the chicken - coconut dish can be served in a heated clay pot (煲仔 'po-chai'). It will taste slightly better, and clay pots (on a suitable protective pad) also add considerably to the gemütlichkeit of a cosy shared meal.
桶子油雞 TONG JAI YAU KAI
Oiled Chicken
老公雞: 1隻 (one old cock, around three pounds).
薑: 2或3片 (two or three thick slices of ginger).
葱: 2或3條 (two or three scallion).
八角: 5或6粒 (five or six whole star anise).
陳皮: 半個 (half a dried tangerine peel).
糖: 5両 (about one cup cane sugar, slightly less).
豉油: 3盃 (three cups soy sauce).
黄酒: 1盃 (one cup sherry or rice wine).
水: 3盃 (three cups water).
Blanch chicken, rinse and drain.
Put a bamboo rack in the bottom of a soup pot (to keep the bird from sticking), add all flavourings and liquids, and bring to a boil. Put the chicken in the pot, simmer roughly half an hour, turning as appropriate and pouring the hot broth into the cavity. Remove the bird from the pot and brush with oil to make it shiny. Let it cool a bit.
Chop into large pieces and arrange on a platter.
Splash some of the cooking liquid over to serve.
And, as an alternative to Chinese chicken, the following:
MANOK KUNIT
Yellow Curry Chicken
Half a chicken, in four pieces.
One onion, minced.
One or two cloves garlic, minced.
A little ginger, ditto.
Three kemiri (candlenuts); lightly toasted, ground smooth.
One TBS. sambal ulek.
One Tsp. tamarind paste.
One Tsp. each: ground coriander, turmeric, dry ginger.
Half Tsp. each: sugar, shrimp paste.
Generous pinch ground cumin.
A stalk of lemon grass.
One cup coconut milk.
Dash of amber fish sauce.
Gild the onion, garlic, and ginger. Add the kemiri, sambal, shrimp paste, and spices, stirfry till fragrant. Then add the chicken, lemon grass, and coconut milk. Cook till the chicken is tender and the oil starts coming out, about forty minutes. Add the sugar and fish sauce, and cook a few minutes more.
BULELITJA
Poached Chicken for an offering
One whole chicken.
Two to three each: bruised stalks of lemongras, whole shallots, whole green chilies, thick slices of ginger.
One Tsp each: salt, sugar.
Half Tsp each: white peppercorns, coriander seeds.
Quarter to half Tsp turmeric.
Generous pinches tamo kuntji, langkwang (galangal).
Two whole cloves, a bay leaf, and a piece of dried orange peel.
Eight cups water.
Four cups coconut milk.
Quarter cup white liquor (either Dutch gin, or Vodka).
A jigger of vinegar.
Bring all save chicken to a boil, simmer for five to ten minutes. Inundate the bird and bring the pot back to boil. Turn off heat. Weigh the bird down - a large ceramic bowl partially filled with water will do so nicely. Do not use a metal object as it will affect taste and appearance. Let the pot sit for an hour. Then remove the chicken to a broad basin.
With a slotted spoon remove all solids from the broth. Bring the broth back to a roiling boil and pour slowly over the chicken, making sure all of it is touched by the hot liquid. Drain chicken, reserve broth to a pot and bring back to boiling, then simmer for ten minutes.
Serve the chicken and broth separately.
Chicken cool, broth hot.
MANOK TJEAP KARE
Curried Chicken Chunks
One-and-a-half pounds large chicken parts
Two chopped shallots.
Garlic and ginger, minced.
One TBS ground coriander.
One Tsp each: ground cumin, turmeric, cayenne, sugar.
Pinches cinnamon powder, dry ginger, ground pepper.
TBS each: chili paste, Louisiana hotsauce, amber fish sauce.
Four or five Kemiri nuts, ground up.
One cup water or stock.
Jigger sherry.
Gild chicken, shallots, garlic, ginger. Add spices, stir till the fragrance rises, seethe with the sherry. Add the chili paste, hotsauce, and fish sauce; stir over low heat till it starts sticking. Now add the water or stock, stir the crusty bits to loosen, and simmer for ten to fifteen minutes more. Finish with some minced scallion and a squeeze of lime juice.
PAPRIKASZ
Paprika Chicken
1 whole chicken (about 3 pounds), cut into 8 pieces.
2 garlic cloves, minced.
2 onions, thinly sliced.
2 - 4 TBS sweet Hungarian paprika.
1/2 cup chicken stock.
4 TBS sour cream (*).
A very generous pinch of ground caraway seed.
Olive oil, or butter, or bacon grease.
Salt and pepper.
Gild the onions and garlic. Rub the chicken bits with oil, plus salt, pepper, and some of the paprika. Add to the pan and brown slightly. Now add the remaining paprika and the ground caraway, stir to mix, and add the chicken stock and enough water to barely cover. Simmer for about half an hour, then stir in the sour cream.
Garnish with plenty of chopped parsley.
ADOBONG MANOK SA GATA
Stewed chicken in Coconut Milk
Eight to ten chicken thighs.
Half a cup of soy sauce.
One third cup of cider vinegar.
One and a half cups of coconut milk.
Bay leaves.
One or two sliced shallots.
One Tsp. whole pepper corns.
Eight garlic cloves, minced.
Prick the thighs here and there with a fork, marinate in soy sauce for half an hour. Drain, reserving soy sauce. Brown in a pan, and discard some of the grease. Add the sliced shallot and colour this slightly, then add everything else and simmer for half an hour or so, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking or burning.
Remove bay leaves.
Serve with steamed rice, and a little saucer of crushed garlic in vinegar on the side.
If you want, you can also add whole siling labuyo (wild chili) or siling haba (long chili) to the pan. Siling labuyo is sharper than siling haba.
MARGI NA FARCHA
Parsi-style Fried Chicken
Eight pieces of chicken.
Two large eggs.
A little ginger and garlic, mashed smooth.
Two or three hot green chilies ditto.
One cup lightly toasted bread crumbs.
One TBS plain white flour.
Half TBS cayenne.
One Tsp. ground coriander.
One Tsp. ground cumin.
Pinch ground clove.
Pinch ground cinnamon.
Dash of Worcestershire sauce.
Dash of vinegar.
Dash of salad oil.
Mix everything except the chicken, eggs, and breadcrumbs.
Slash the chicken pieces deeply, thoroughly coat the chicken with the mixture, then refrigerate for several hours.
Beat the egg whites frothy, mix in the yolks. Dip each piece of chicken in the egg, then in the breadcrumbs. Fry each side till done, then do the other side. Drain on paper towels.
MURGHI MASALA
Creamy Curry Chicken
One pound of chicken, chunk-cut on bone.
Two onions, chopped.
One dozen Roma tomatoes, peeled seeded chopped.
One cup cashews.
Half a cup heavy cream.
Quarter cup yoghurt.
Two TBS garam masala.
Half TBS cayenne.
Thumblength ginger.
Five or six cloves garlic.
Pinches of salt and pepper.
One teaspoon cumin seeds, roasted till quite dark, then ground fine.
Mince and smash the garlic and ginger to a paste, mix it with the yoghurt and the pinches of salt and pepper. Marinate the chicken in this for an hour.
Pour boiling water (enough to cover) over the cashews and let them soften.
Take the chicken pieces out of the marinade, and colour them well in hot oil. Remove to a plate, add the onions to the pan with a little more oil. Saute till coloured, add the tomatoes and all spices except the dark-roasted cumin seeds, and cook soft, which will be about five minutes.
Dump the cashews and their soaking water into a blender, add the contents of the pan, and osterize smooth. Return this to the pan and reduce till velvety, then put in the chicken pieces. Bring back to a boil, turn heat low, and simmer a few minutes. Stir the cream into the dish, and let it heat, but do not bring it to a boil.
Dust the dark-roasted cumin powder over the top before serving.
Decorate with the merest sprinkle of sliced green chili.
D'JAJ M'ZBIB
Poulet a la Juif; Stewed Chicken with Raisins.
One chicken, skinned and cut up into large pieces.
Two large onions.
Half a cup raisins, rinsed.
Half a TBS ground coriander.
Quarter Tsp. each: ground pepper, cinnamon powder, dry ginger.
Generous pinches mace, cayenne, turmeric, salt, and sugar.
Smaller pinches oregano, thyme, rosemary.
Two cups chicken stock.
The juice of one lemon.
Sherry.
Bay leaves.
Olive oil.
Chop the onions, fry golden them in a little olive oil, and remove to a plate.
Fry the chicken pieces till gilded, add the coriander, cayenne, and turmeric. Continue frying while stirring till material starts sticking to the bottom of the pan. Add onions and raisins, stir briefly, and deglaze with a splash sherry. Now add all else, and simmer for half an hour, stirring occasionally.
VERY BRITISH CHICKEN CURRY
Half a dozen chicken thighs.
Two onions, sliced.
Two TBS mango chutney.
Two Tsp. ground coriander.
One Tsp. ground cumin.
One Tsp. turmeric.
One Tsp. cayenne.
One TBS flour.
One TBS lemon juice.
One TBS sugar.
Dash of Worcestershire sauce.
A jigger of sherry.
Bay leaf or two.
Chili pepper or two.
Two to three cups water.
Gently sauté the chicken thighs till nicely coloured in some oil. Add the onions, and let them softly brown. Add the water, bay leaf, and chili (chopped or not) and put on a low simmer. Mix the remaining ingredients and stir into the pot. Cook till the chicken is tender.
P.S.: Everything goes better with sambal.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, February 05, 2019
GIRL ALONE
What happens when a 'Goth' girl becomes a zombie? She probably spends the rest of her death in her apartment, consumed by an existential huff, and a resentful sense of "I told you so". And, quite possibly, she forgets to eat. Eating was a living thing, and now that it is strictly living things, it's 'so not worth it'.
Many things are not worth it if you're a zombie. All that lovely white pancake face powder and the off-white base applied thickly now seem like overkill. Her skin is already an unnatural white, paler than ever before, the eye-shadow merely hides the lovely bruise-like effects in her sockets, and her formerly favourite perfume, "Eau De Cimetière", no longer speaks to her. Events have taken over, her existence is an unending but delightful hunger, and the plain pointlessness that was her depression has been replaced by an ultimately boring fulfillment. No more haematomas!
So. Not. Worth. It. At all.
Blah.
Spike, the sullen highschool punk with piercings and tattoos with whom she spent many miserable hours, runs away screaming now. Wuss.
On the other hand, dogs love her.
She hates dogs.
Brexit and Trump finally make sense.
What the hell happened?
Why?
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Many things are not worth it if you're a zombie. All that lovely white pancake face powder and the off-white base applied thickly now seem like overkill. Her skin is already an unnatural white, paler than ever before, the eye-shadow merely hides the lovely bruise-like effects in her sockets, and her formerly favourite perfume, "Eau De Cimetière", no longer speaks to her. Events have taken over, her existence is an unending but delightful hunger, and the plain pointlessness that was her depression has been replaced by an ultimately boring fulfillment. No more haematomas!
So. Not. Worth. It. At all.
Blah.
Spike, the sullen highschool punk with piercings and tattoos with whom she spent many miserable hours, runs away screaming now. Wuss.
On the other hand, dogs love her.
She hates dogs.
Brexit and Trump finally make sense.
What the hell happened?
Why?
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
CONTEMPLATING LIFE STYLE CHANGES?
Other than advising me that smoking is unhealthy and I should quit, my doctors have been diplomatic about does and don'ts. Probably because most of the people they deal with are old stubborn Cantonese folks, many from the country districts, who don't follow advice from younger people gladly, and have all kinds of bad habits. Smoking, minor amounts of alcohol, high fat foods like flaky egg tarts and streaky pork belly ( (五花肉 'ng-faa yiuk'), crustaceans, preserved meat, as well as salt consumption through the roof: soy sauce, oyster sauce, dried fish, dried shrimp and oysters, charsiu pork, and many more things which in their normal dosages are absolutely not good for the decrepit old fossils.
Especially dried fish, and shrimp paste.
[Paradise tastes like 鹹魚 ('haam yü'), 鹹蝦醬 ('haam haa jeung'), and 皮蛋 ('pei daan').
Plus 梅菜('mui choi'), 榨菜 ('jaa choi'), and 酸菜 ('suen choi').]
Well, except for the Cantonese characteristics, the country districts, and the age factor, that describes me to a 'T'. I am not Chinese but Caucasian.
And not old at all, nor stubborn in the slightest.
Don't you dare laugh.
[American Dutch, trimmed goatee, liberal, pipe smoker.]
I am very fond of pastries and hot milk tea at bakeries in Chinatown, really enjoy steamed pork patty with dried fish and slivered ginger, consider dried oysters a lovely ingredient, and always have various condiments and salty or dessicated substances in my pantry.
And, at nearly sixty, I have a some health issues.
Which may require certain changes.
So, for the foreseeable future, I shall eat healthier and try to get more exercise. Lower my salt intake (dammit), cut back on sambal and hot sauces (urgh), and avoid alcohol.
But not the people and environments where alcohol is consumed. I am still far too social to cut that out. Drink hot water, diluted fruit juices, weak caffeinated beverages.
Increasing my vegetable consumption may be a problem, as green stuff almost demands oyster sauce etcetera.
And no, please don't give me suggestions about maximizing flavour with low salt heart healthy alternatives, as I am quite familiar with cookbooks and the internet; I can discover this brand new way of living without any know-it-all lecturing. I can read perfectly well.
I'm still going to smoke. Pipes and their smells are potent memory aides, and the appearance of old briar coupled with resinous leaves is a source of profound and thoughtful pleasure. Whereas the company of rabid non-smokers really makes me want to overturn tables and advocate mass indulgence in gluten, meat, and environmental destruction.
Oh, and as I am still sparkling, just bubbling over with of piss and vinegar, and quite unattached, I should probably also find an avid female reader half my age with whom to enjoy good food, or in whose charming presence I can occasionally step outside for a contemplative pipe smoke, but realistically that is considerably less likely than salads or other healthy habits.
Salads require anchovies.
Anchovies are fish.
Healthy!

==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Especially dried fish, and shrimp paste.
[Paradise tastes like 鹹魚 ('haam yü'), 鹹蝦醬 ('haam haa jeung'), and 皮蛋 ('pei daan').
Plus 梅菜('mui choi'), 榨菜 ('jaa choi'), and 酸菜 ('suen choi').]
Well, except for the Cantonese characteristics, the country districts, and the age factor, that describes me to a 'T'. I am not Chinese but Caucasian.
And not old at all, nor stubborn in the slightest.
Don't you dare laugh.
[American Dutch, trimmed goatee, liberal, pipe smoker.]
I am very fond of pastries and hot milk tea at bakeries in Chinatown, really enjoy steamed pork patty with dried fish and slivered ginger, consider dried oysters a lovely ingredient, and always have various condiments and salty or dessicated substances in my pantry.
And, at nearly sixty, I have a some health issues.
Which may require certain changes.
So, for the foreseeable future, I shall eat healthier and try to get more exercise. Lower my salt intake (dammit), cut back on sambal and hot sauces (urgh), and avoid alcohol.
But not the people and environments where alcohol is consumed. I am still far too social to cut that out. Drink hot water, diluted fruit juices, weak caffeinated beverages.
Increasing my vegetable consumption may be a problem, as green stuff almost demands oyster sauce etcetera.
And no, please don't give me suggestions about maximizing flavour with low salt heart healthy alternatives, as I am quite familiar with cookbooks and the internet; I can discover this brand new way of living without any know-it-all lecturing. I can read perfectly well.
I'm still going to smoke. Pipes and their smells are potent memory aides, and the appearance of old briar coupled with resinous leaves is a source of profound and thoughtful pleasure. Whereas the company of rabid non-smokers really makes me want to overturn tables and advocate mass indulgence in gluten, meat, and environmental destruction.
Oh, and as I am still sparkling, just bubbling over with of piss and vinegar, and quite unattached, I should probably also find an avid female reader half my age with whom to enjoy good food, or in whose charming presence I can occasionally step outside for a contemplative pipe smoke, but realistically that is considerably less likely than salads or other healthy habits.
Salads require anchovies.
Anchovies are fish.
Healthy!

==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
THAT CRISP MOMENT
There are good reasons people stuck in snow drifts should NOT hit that bottle of cinnamon schnapps, passing it around till it's empty. Yes, it will make that freezing cold bearable -- it desensitizes you, and makes you sluggish because of lower body temperature and effects on your blood pressure (made more extreme by the cold) -- but you might not survive the experience. In your snow drift. Just outside Chicago. Twelve feet deep. Frozen river. Slowly fading.
Also, your last memories will taste like really bad dime-store candy.
Second reason, your ferocious hangover.
Should you survive.
[After three or four shots, alcohol functions as a vasodilator, but at higher levels, it becomes a vasoconstrictor, narrowing blood vessels and increasing blood pressure, making conditions such as migraine headaches and frostbite worse.]
There was a person sleeping in his parked car with the motor running out on Clay Street when I left the house for the last smoke of the day. He was still there after two when I returned. An hour and a half later, with two drinks in the system, and it did not feel cold outside to the same degree.
Which, of course, was deceptive.
When I wake up, my cocktail is Losartan, Atorvastatin, Clopidogrel, Metopropolol, and Aspirin. When he wakes up, he should have Aspirin, Coffee, a donut, lots of liquids, and probably a good rest in a warm environment.
Plus a medical check-up.
It rained last night.
And it was cold.
Two Scotch and waters is not by any means an over-indulgence. Not over a ninety minute span. Consequently the chances of me falling asleep while trying to unpark my car are slim. But rain does seem softer after a drink, and on a cold night the light of the street lamps will be more otherworldly.
[According to several authoritative sources I should not consume alcohol while taking Clopidogrel. Well, that's a bummer. Update as of 11:35 AM: Furthermore, alcohol and Atorvastatin also are a horrible combination. I guess it's ginger ale and water from now on. Or hot weak tea.]
A mixture of matured Virginias with dark steamed leaf will send a subtle perfume into the night air. There won't be any pot-smokers about. Or cars with overly loud sound systems. Fewer folks huffing Camels or Vapes. The neighborhood is quiet. There are bright lights, but almost no drunks or screaming young people.
Not quite heaven. But very close.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Also, your last memories will taste like really bad dime-store candy.
Second reason, your ferocious hangover.
Should you survive.
[After three or four shots, alcohol functions as a vasodilator, but at higher levels, it becomes a vasoconstrictor, narrowing blood vessels and increasing blood pressure, making conditions such as migraine headaches and frostbite worse.]
There was a person sleeping in his parked car with the motor running out on Clay Street when I left the house for the last smoke of the day. He was still there after two when I returned. An hour and a half later, with two drinks in the system, and it did not feel cold outside to the same degree.
Which, of course, was deceptive.
When I wake up, my cocktail is Losartan, Atorvastatin, Clopidogrel, Metopropolol, and Aspirin. When he wakes up, he should have Aspirin, Coffee, a donut, lots of liquids, and probably a good rest in a warm environment.
Plus a medical check-up.
It rained last night.
And it was cold.
Two Scotch and waters is not by any means an over-indulgence. Not over a ninety minute span. Consequently the chances of me falling asleep while trying to unpark my car are slim. But rain does seem softer after a drink, and on a cold night the light of the street lamps will be more otherworldly.
[According to several authoritative sources I should not consume alcohol while taking Clopidogrel. Well, that's a bummer. Update as of 11:35 AM: Furthermore, alcohol and Atorvastatin also are a horrible combination. I guess it's ginger ale and water from now on. Or hot weak tea.]
A mixture of matured Virginias with dark steamed leaf will send a subtle perfume into the night air. There won't be any pot-smokers about. Or cars with overly loud sound systems. Fewer folks huffing Camels or Vapes. The neighborhood is quiet. There are bright lights, but almost no drunks or screaming young people.
Not quite heaven. But very close.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, February 04, 2019
CHINESE NEW YEAR'S EVE HAPPINESS
Having just returned home, the prospect of two days off work beckons. And given that I am still recovering from the procedure on Friday, and a bit bushed, you will understand that the break is gilded even more. Now, initially I had planned to go down to Chinatown tomorrow for porkchops, but there is a great chance that the restaurant to wish I wish to go is closed for Chinese New Year.
Today, Monday February 4, 2019, is New Year's eve. Good thing that there is a tonne of food in the house.
About the only thing I may accomplish tomorrow is visiting my bank.
In any case, happy New Year to everybody.
新年快樂,歲歲平安,萬事如意,身體健康 。
May your New Year be happy, the coming years be peaceful, all things come to a desired fruition, and may you have vibrant good health; 'san nin faai lok, seui seui ping on, maan si yiu yi, san tai kin hong'.
I'm still thinking about those porkchops. My cardiologist has not yet given me the lecture about what not to do, so it's still all wide open.
Nice fatty porkchops!
I am obsessed.
I wonder if any good places to eat are open tomorrow.
Meanwhile, for dinner in a while, duck. Rice, gailan, and a sambal. Plus a cup of coffee. My apartment mate is in her room, in bed, reading -- it looks like she probably didn't go out all day, because once a month she takes a Monday off -- and given how beastly buggery cold the weather is, that was a wise choice. Except for the fact that I am vibrant and go stir-crazy from inactivity, I would opt for a similar course tomorrow.
Oh, and the unfortunate circumstance that I cannot smoke at home, what with my apartment mate being a non-smoker......
That's where Chinatown comes in. Everybody there has relatives who smoke, many of them are the relative who smokes, and most people there do not sneer venomously at smokers, because they take for granted that men have bad habits.
If you see someone looking five days post-operative and fragile, with a pipe in his mouth and a gleam in his eye down there tomorrow, that will be me.
The fragility lessens with each day.
Great leaps of improvement.
By next week I should have a sun tan and look like a young Greek god.
Golden curls, instead of salt and pepper mouse colour.
Or something very similar.
Improved.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
About the only thing I may accomplish tomorrow is visiting my bank.
In any case, happy New Year to everybody.
新年快樂,歲歲平安,萬事如意,身體健康 。
May your New Year be happy, the coming years be peaceful, all things come to a desired fruition, and may you have vibrant good health; 'san nin faai lok, seui seui ping on, maan si yiu yi, san tai kin hong'.
I'm still thinking about those porkchops. My cardiologist has not yet given me the lecture about what not to do, so it's still all wide open.
Nice fatty porkchops!
I am obsessed.
I wonder if any good places to eat are open tomorrow.
Meanwhile, for dinner in a while, duck. Rice, gailan, and a sambal. Plus a cup of coffee. My apartment mate is in her room, in bed, reading -- it looks like she probably didn't go out all day, because once a month she takes a Monday off -- and given how beastly buggery cold the weather is, that was a wise choice. Except for the fact that I am vibrant and go stir-crazy from inactivity, I would opt for a similar course tomorrow.
Oh, and the unfortunate circumstance that I cannot smoke at home, what with my apartment mate being a non-smoker......
That's where Chinatown comes in. Everybody there has relatives who smoke, many of them are the relative who smokes, and most people there do not sneer venomously at smokers, because they take for granted that men have bad habits.
If you see someone looking five days post-operative and fragile, with a pipe in his mouth and a gleam in his eye down there tomorrow, that will be me.
The fragility lessens with each day.
Great leaps of improvement.
By next week I should have a sun tan and look like a young Greek god.
Golden curls, instead of salt and pepper mouse colour.
Or something very similar.
Improved.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
CONSIDERING EGG TARTS
One thing the happy linguist can do, late at night, is read about his medical condition on the internet in various languages. Such as Chinese (Cantonese) and Dutch. It yields some fascinating stuff.
The material below is a short selection. The Chinese pronunciation given is for the language of Canton and Hong kong, and as for the Dutch, I am sorry, you are on your own. It looks goofy, but to us Dutch-readers it is perfectly phonetic.
冠狀動脈疾病 'gun jong dung mak jat beng': Coronary disease. Ischemische hartklachten.
冠狀動脈支架 'gun jong dung mak ji gaa': Coronary stent. Coronaire stent.
動脉粥样硬化 'dung mak juk yueng ngaan faa': : Atherosclerosis. Atherosclerose.
高血壓 'gou huet ngaat': High blood pressure / hypertension. Hoge bloeddruk / hypertensie.
血管再成形術 'huet gun joi sing ying seut': Angioplasty, balloon angioplasty, percutaneous transluminal angioplasty. Angioplastiek, ballonangioplastie, percutane transluminale angioplastie.
Note that angioplasty is also simply 血管成形術 ('huet gun sing seut').
心臟手術'sam jong sau seut': Coronary procedure, heart operation. Coronaire ingreep, heart operatie..
Mind you, there is no need for me to know how to say any of this in any other language than English. The hospital/clinic where I get treatment is the Chinese Hospital on Jackson Street, where not only is English the language of their medical education, but they are experienced in dealing with crusty old farts who sometimes gibber. Dutch is not a tongue with which they are familiar (unlike myself), but all communication has been comprehensive, and clear.
I doubt that I will ever need to explain any of this in Dutch.
Other than perhaps wailing operatically "no, I cannot have a fifth delicious egg tart, because I am ill, and it might give me a heart attack! ("冇啊,不可以食嗰第五個美味的蛋撻,因為得心臟疾病,可能會心髒病發作... 。"; 'mou ah, pat ho yi sik ko dai ng go mei mei di daan taat, yan wai dak sam jong jat beng, ho nang weui sam jong beng faat jok') in one of my favourite bakeries, the opportunity to use any of this is limited.
I seldom have more than one egg tart (蛋撻 'daan taat') anyway.
NOTE: 脉、脈、衇、䘑 。
The variants 脉、脈、衇、䘑 all mean the same thing: arteries, veins.
Pronounced 'mak' in Cantonese.
Some other useful stuff:
醫療預約 ('yi liu yiu yuk): A medical appointment.
要動手術 ('yiu dung sau-seut'): need to have an operation.
得接受手術 ('dak jip sau sau-seut'): have surgery, had surgery.
接受手術 ('jip sau sau seut): undergo surgery.
病情 ('ping jing'): condition of the patient.
病人 ('ping yan'): patient, sick person.
患者 ('waan je'): patient, sufferer.
病 ('ping'): illness, ailment.
急診 ('kap chan'): emergency medical consultation.
門診 ('mun chan'): outpatient services.
診室 ('chan sat'): consulting room.
診所 ('chan so'): clinic.
診 ('chan'): diagnosis.
臟 ('jong'): internal organ.
狀 ('jong'): shape, form.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
The material below is a short selection. The Chinese pronunciation given is for the language of Canton and Hong kong, and as for the Dutch, I am sorry, you are on your own. It looks goofy, but to us Dutch-readers it is perfectly phonetic.
冠狀動脈疾病 'gun jong dung mak jat beng': Coronary disease. Ischemische hartklachten.
冠狀動脈支架 'gun jong dung mak ji gaa': Coronary stent. Coronaire stent.
動脉粥样硬化 'dung mak juk yueng ngaan faa': : Atherosclerosis. Atherosclerose.
高血壓 'gou huet ngaat': High blood pressure / hypertension. Hoge bloeddruk / hypertensie.
血管再成形術 'huet gun joi sing ying seut': Angioplasty, balloon angioplasty, percutaneous transluminal angioplasty. Angioplastiek, ballonangioplastie, percutane transluminale angioplastie.
Note that angioplasty is also simply 血管成形術 ('huet gun sing seut').
心臟手術'sam jong sau seut': Coronary procedure, heart operation. Coronaire ingreep, heart operatie..
Mind you, there is no need for me to know how to say any of this in any other language than English. The hospital/clinic where I get treatment is the Chinese Hospital on Jackson Street, where not only is English the language of their medical education, but they are experienced in dealing with crusty old farts who sometimes gibber. Dutch is not a tongue with which they are familiar (unlike myself), but all communication has been comprehensive, and clear.
I doubt that I will ever need to explain any of this in Dutch.
Other than perhaps wailing operatically "no, I cannot have a fifth delicious egg tart, because I am ill, and it might give me a heart attack! ("冇啊,不可以食嗰第五個美味的蛋撻,因為得心臟疾病,可能會心髒病發作... 。"; 'mou ah, pat ho yi sik ko dai ng go mei mei di daan taat, yan wai dak sam jong jat beng, ho nang weui sam jong beng faat jok') in one of my favourite bakeries, the opportunity to use any of this is limited.
I seldom have more than one egg tart (蛋撻 'daan taat') anyway.
NOTE: 脉、脈、衇、䘑 。
The variants 脉、脈、衇、䘑 all mean the same thing: arteries, veins.
Pronounced 'mak' in Cantonese.
Some other useful stuff:
醫療預約 ('yi liu yiu yuk): A medical appointment.
要動手術 ('yiu dung sau-seut'): need to have an operation.
得接受手術 ('dak jip sau sau-seut'): have surgery, had surgery.
接受手術 ('jip sau sau seut): undergo surgery.
病情 ('ping jing'): condition of the patient.
病人 ('ping yan'): patient, sick person.
患者 ('waan je'): patient, sufferer.
病 ('ping'): illness, ailment.
急診 ('kap chan'): emergency medical consultation.
門診 ('mun chan'): outpatient services.
診室 ('chan sat'): consulting room.
診所 ('chan so'): clinic.
診 ('chan'): diagnosis.
臟 ('jong'): internal organ.
狀 ('jong'): shape, form.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, February 03, 2019
STRONGLY VESTED IN GOATS
Indeed, I know that the biggest sporting event of the year is on television right now. But in all honesty, I am not vested in it, and have never even watched the superbowl. Who wins zal me een worst zijn (a Dutch colloquialism indicating complete indifference: it shall be a sausage to me). A number of the people with whom I happily spend time are also apathetic about the game. This is not necessarily a sign of greater intelligence. But it could be. Absolutely the only part of today's festivities that I care about, though not very much, is the Doritos commercial.
A few years ago they had the goat.
A classic.
Maybe this year they'll have two goats.
Or a whole herd of them.
But I shan't turn on the television to find out.
If I were interested in sports, or appreciated the loud camaraderie that goes along with watching it, I could have stayed at work. There's a passel of middle-aged delinquents who are snarfing barbecue and soft drinks there right now, in a room filled with cigar smoke. And I would imagine that there is a fair bit of testosteronic yowling going on.
No goats.
Part of the problem is that the spectacle doesn't thrill me.
Part is a strong dislike of yowling and group frenzies.
I'm more or less okay with cigars once in a while.
The city is quiet right now. My apartment mate is in her room slumbering.
And, given that the exertion of being at the job this morning (second day after my operation) kinda whacked me, I should probably go nap in my own bed too. In fact, I think everybody should sleep through the superbowl.
Wake me up if they have goats.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
A few years ago they had the goat.
A classic.
Maybe this year they'll have two goats.
Or a whole herd of them.
But I shan't turn on the television to find out.
If I were interested in sports, or appreciated the loud camaraderie that goes along with watching it, I could have stayed at work. There's a passel of middle-aged delinquents who are snarfing barbecue and soft drinks there right now, in a room filled with cigar smoke. And I would imagine that there is a fair bit of testosteronic yowling going on.
No goats.
Part of the problem is that the spectacle doesn't thrill me.
Part is a strong dislike of yowling and group frenzies.
I'm more or less okay with cigars once in a while.
The city is quiet right now. My apartment mate is in her room slumbering.
And, given that the exertion of being at the job this morning (second day after my operation) kinda whacked me, I should probably go nap in my own bed too. In fact, I think everybody should sleep through the superbowl.
Wake me up if they have goats.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
DO NOT USE IF YOU ARE PREGNANT!
The warning not to use if I am pregnant occurs on all of my medications, but the cautionary note about not nursing or trying to get pregnant on only three of them. There is no fear of that happening. Not a single one tells me not to operate heavy machinery -- which is good, but not likely to happen either -- and all of them indicate one dose per day.
What they should've warned me about is a lower tolerance for screaming brats.
Almost all of whom are boy-children.
But that just may be me. I've never had much patience with loud small males. Little girls are more likeable. Despite their appetite for Hello Kitty crap.
The safe zone for little boys is two blocks distance.
For girls, half a block. Less if supervised.
On the other hand, entitled adults need a radius of at least half a mile, of either gender. Brad, Chad, Amber, Jennifer, and Tiffany.
Seeing as on the days when I do not go to work I often end up in Chinatown, my exposure to Brad, Chad, Amber, Jennifer, and Tiffany, is minimal. Even spoiled little males are less common there (though not entirely unknown; boys are considered precious, for entirely objectionable discriminatory reasons).
Today will difficult. I'm barely 24 hours out of the hospital, but almost everybody with whom I have to put up during the Superbowl qualifies as 'Chad'. There will be no well-behaved little girls among the cigar smokers.
A very great pity.
Just loud little boys grown older and ferociously acting up.
Oh, and the Superbowl means nothing to me.
I am not into sports at all.
Just colour me a defective old coot.
Don't know who is playing.
Don't care.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
What they should've warned me about is a lower tolerance for screaming brats.
Almost all of whom are boy-children.
But that just may be me. I've never had much patience with loud small males. Little girls are more likeable. Despite their appetite for Hello Kitty crap.
The safe zone for little boys is two blocks distance.
For girls, half a block. Less if supervised.
On the other hand, entitled adults need a radius of at least half a mile, of either gender. Brad, Chad, Amber, Jennifer, and Tiffany.
Seeing as on the days when I do not go to work I often end up in Chinatown, my exposure to Brad, Chad, Amber, Jennifer, and Tiffany, is minimal. Even spoiled little males are less common there (though not entirely unknown; boys are considered precious, for entirely objectionable discriminatory reasons).
Today will difficult. I'm barely 24 hours out of the hospital, but almost everybody with whom I have to put up during the Superbowl qualifies as 'Chad'. There will be no well-behaved little girls among the cigar smokers.
A very great pity.
Just loud little boys grown older and ferociously acting up.
Oh, and the Superbowl means nothing to me.
I am not into sports at all.
Just colour me a defective old coot.
Don't know who is playing.
Don't care.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, February 02, 2019
ONLY SLIGHTLY USED, STILL MANY MORE MILES ON THAT PUPPY
So, hospital food is actually quite decent. Scalloped potatoes, string beans, and what appears to have been a hamburger steak. Indeed, it would have been terrific with oyster sauce (蠔油 'hou yau') and Sriracha.....
But I think the medical staff would nix that.
Especially for a heart patient.
Too much salt.
Less than an hour after they let me out, I was down in Chinatown having a cup of hot milk tea. There had been no caffeine since Thursday afternoon, and I was Jonesing real bad. Hard to locomote, due to a brand new hole in my groin, right-hand side. Several smaller holes in wrists and elbows.
I should point out that I am needle-phobic.
Normally I like to pretend that I am young, vibrant, and barely middle-aged.
I may want to throw that idea out for the time being. I am an ornery and somewhat pissy barely elderly old git. Still trim, still mentally acute.
But also irritable, incorrigible, in need of newer parts.
And always keen for milk tea.
My apartment mate picked me up at the hospital near the Panhandle. Fortunately we went our separate ways once we got to the Chinese Hospital Pharmacy, which gave me a chance to buy some smokes and light up, as well as go have a warm beverage in a crowded noisy environment. Highly necessary, because the patient in the room next door had been moaning theatrically all night. No, not in pain. Just dementia-fuelled angst.
I, on the other hand, am an exemplary patient. No fuss, no muss, no bother; just plotting to break all the new rules once I've escaped the nurses.
Two more prescriptions, and an increased dosage on a third.
A brand of cigarettes I've never heard of.
Roast duck in the kitchen.
Do NOT got pregnant or suckle infants while taking this.
Don't worry, folks, I shan't even think of it.
My apartment mate is exceptionally kind and understanding. Food and hot coffee waiting for me when I got home.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
But I think the medical staff would nix that.
Especially for a heart patient.
Too much salt.
Less than an hour after they let me out, I was down in Chinatown having a cup of hot milk tea. There had been no caffeine since Thursday afternoon, and I was Jonesing real bad. Hard to locomote, due to a brand new hole in my groin, right-hand side. Several smaller holes in wrists and elbows.
I should point out that I am needle-phobic.
Normally I like to pretend that I am young, vibrant, and barely middle-aged.
I may want to throw that idea out for the time being. I am an ornery and somewhat pissy barely elderly old git. Still trim, still mentally acute.
But also irritable, incorrigible, in need of newer parts.
And always keen for milk tea.
My apartment mate picked me up at the hospital near the Panhandle. Fortunately we went our separate ways once we got to the Chinese Hospital Pharmacy, which gave me a chance to buy some smokes and light up, as well as go have a warm beverage in a crowded noisy environment. Highly necessary, because the patient in the room next door had been moaning theatrically all night. No, not in pain. Just dementia-fuelled angst.
I, on the other hand, am an exemplary patient. No fuss, no muss, no bother; just plotting to break all the new rules once I've escaped the nurses.
Two more prescriptions, and an increased dosage on a third.
A brand of cigarettes I've never heard of.
Roast duck in the kitchen.
Do NOT got pregnant or suckle infants while taking this.
Don't worry, folks, I shan't even think of it.
My apartment mate is exceptionally kind and understanding. Food and hot coffee waiting for me when I got home.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Search This Blog
UNDER A COLD BLUE SKY
That turned out to be surprisingly easy. Fifteen minutes on the telephone with someone in Arkansas, with no problems, no issues, and the fir...


